


windows rolled down

by fuscience



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Minor Character Death
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-23
Updated: 2015-12-23
Packaged: 2018-05-08 09:13:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5491787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fuscience/pseuds/fuscience
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's summer break and Clarke's not ready to go home. Lexa, on the other hand, is a little desperate.  Everyone tags along and Bellamy learns how to use FaceTime. Rideshare AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	windows rolled down

**Author's Note:**

> i don't have much more written on this, but i wanted to go ahead and post because it's been sitting in my files since around May. so here ya go!

Day 0

 

There's t-minus some amount of hours until they have to be out of the dorms. Clarke would probably know what time administration is kicking them out if she'd read any of the emails, or listened to Raven, or done anything besides ignore the ever closing deadline of her departure, but that's all in the past and there's nothing she can do about it now. 

 

Raven's already packed - far more efficiently than Clarke could ever hope to be, and watching her struggle with a bulging suitcase from where she’s lounging on her half of the room. They have three hours before the dorms close at midnight and Raven’s basically been staring her down for the past five, waiting on Clarke to finally start packing, and utterly unsympathetic to any internal struggle that’s left her stuffing everything she cares about into a few suitcases mere hours before campus security will be knocking down their door. Clarke gives a shout of frustration when she can’t get the suitcase to close, but it quickly turns to victory when the zipper finally inches past the remnants of a heel. Raven looks up to watch her throw the suitcase on the ground.

 

"Finally. Fucking hell Clarke - you realize we're coming back in a month?"

 

Clarke ignores her and settles for lifting the next suitcase on the bed - she's got a lot of stuff, _she knows_. It was hard moving here and she had mistakenly decided to pack basically everything in her utter rush to not leave a spec of herself behind in her family's- in her mother's house _(It’d been fun then, imagining the empty bedroom where she used to live, like a museum to the her of the past, but Clarke's still not sure how she's going to handle this, she wanted the room empty not the whole house_ ).

 

She doesn't realize she's slowed in thought until Raven dutifully clears her throat and stares her down, "You know you could always bunk at my place when we get back - you don't have to go home."' Clarke picks at the edge of her sheets, bunched up in a corner of the bare dorm bed, and traces the blue flower pattern on them lightly.

 

It's a really kind offer considering everything that's happened - they hadn't know each other in high school, Raven being a year older, and it had been strange, odd luck that they ended up as roommates at university especially since Raven had been a late transfer, moving into Clarke’s available room after the winter break. (Raven called it fucked up, Clarke chose not to comment because well - because). So, they’d only known each other for five months and well it wasn’t that long in the scheme of things. Then there was Finn - Finn who Raven had followed, away from her prestigous engineering school, and who’s transfer had officially been accepted ten days ago and was now moving two thousand miles away so that they could all lick their wounds and tape together their broken hearts. They don't really talk about Finn - it wasn’t fair to anyone.

 

"Thanks, but I - I don't know." Her voice trails off into the empty dorm room. Raven’s home isn’t much better than hers, small and empty as opposed to big and empty - sometimes she thinks the reason they’re roommates is because they were too goddamn lonely apart.

 

"Okay. It's your choice - just sayin' if you're not ready you got plenty of other options outside of the mayor's mansion."

 

"She's not the mayor."

 

Raven frowns, "Whatever." _She’s not,_ Clarke thinks defensively, _her mother’s on the council, but Jaha’s the mayor. It’s not the same. It’s not the same._

 

They stand in silence for a moment, both dreading the return home - Raven because of who won't be there ( _Finn, Finn, Finn - he was everything for so long and she was still piecing together the parts of her that he’d taken with him_ ) and Clarke for who will be there, sitting and waiting. God, she really hopes her mother’s not at the actual Mayor’s mansion, not at any of the other council member’s houses.

 

"Ok. I need a break.” Clarke tucks a stray piece of hair behind her ear and goes to grab her keys. “I'm going to head down and see what's left in the vending machines. Want anything?"

 

"I'm good." Raven replies, flipping open her laptop and resting it on her legs, and Clarke lifts her eyebrows - it’s rare Raven passes up a chance for vending machine food, especially if Clarke’s paying.

 

"Ok, be right back." She's exiting the room when she hears Raven shouting something about Reese's peanut butter cups and Clarke smiles.

 

\----------

 

The vending machine have been basically stripped and left unfilled - university administration’s subtle hint for everyone to get out or you'll starve, and Clarke frowns, giving the machine a little tap with her foot, while glaring at the single row of granola bars and small packs of gum.

 

"That generally only works if there is more there to fall out." Clarke turns and there's a girl standing behind her with a bemused expression on her face, one eyebrow quirked up . She's wearing glasses with thick black frames that shadow her eyes and her curly hair is pinned up in a high knot and - she's beautiful. Clarke feels her mouth go dry.

 

"Oh. Um." She moves out of the way and stands off to the side, watching the hallway stranger slip in two dollar bills sweater dropping off one shoulder when she bends over. Clarke notices she’s only wearing socks (plain black), that peek out from ankle jeans, as the girl goes to make her choice

 

"Here." Clarke breaks out of her daze and looks down at the hand offering her either the gum or the granola.

 

"Huh?"

 

"I wasn't sure which one you wanted."

 

"I wasn't - " Clarke stop and remembers how Octavia always warns her about being abrasive and uptight. She reaches for the gum, "Thanks. That's really nice."

 

"You’re welcome." And then she's gone, wandering off down the hallway into the common area, feet padding against the carpet, and disappearing, leaving Clarke without a name or a dorm number - just a little pack of green mint gum.

 

It’s two p.m. and there’s ten hours until the dormitory closes. She’s got no food and only a handful of people are left on campus - only a few of which she regularly talks to so, Clarke decides to wander toward the dorm cork board to look for any new announcements - surely that was more interesting than going back up to face their impending eviction. She sticks one of the pieces of gum into her mouth before slipping the rest of the pack into her jean pocket. There’s a lot of old pamphlets for finals studying tips or end-of-the-year parties and she starts to clear them off, balling them up and throwing them in the recycling bin to the right.

 

It’s a game.

 

Two points if it goes in all trash bag.

 

One point if it bounces.

 

A whispered _fuck_ , everytime she misses.

 

After taking down a particularly depressing mental health advertisement (“Finals getting you down? Student Health Services is on-call 24 hours for any emergencies.”), Clarke finds the rideshare section, where students who didn’t have their own means of transportation looked to split gas with others who happened to be going to the same city - they must all be gone at this point and Clarke moves to tear that down as well, undoing the clear plastic tape that keeps a few of them pinned. A hand darts out and wraps around her wrist, just as she rips down a neon green sheet, causing the paper to flutter down to the floor.

 

“What are you doing?” It’s the girl from just minutes ago and Clarke freezes again. She sounds angry. They stare each other down for the moment, and Clarke thinks that this girl would do well in Vegas, mouth set in a straight line, unmoving, face closed off. She opens her mouth to speak, but is interrupted. “Those are not yours to take down.” Definitely angry.

 

A fire creeps up the back of her neck in embarassment, but her nostrils flare defiantly anyway. “I didn’t think they were needed anymore.” The paper still lies between them and Clarke bends down to pick it up, causing her hand to be released. It’s sad how she almost misses the curl of fingers around her wrist. She smoothes out the crumples in the paper and hands it over, “Here. Sorry.”

 

Lexa stares awkwardly at the proffered piece of paper, still upset that this girl felt the need to remove it. Logically, her chances of finding a ride home are next to nil on move out day, but it’s the principle of the matter and she’s still holding out some hope of avoiding the complicated travel home if she has to use public transportation - it is exhausting and Lexa is already so tired. ( _This is not a trip she ever enjoys, but normally there is home and family waiting at the end._ )

 

“Thank you.”

 

“Is it yours?” She has hair like sunshine - very bright, and very blonde, curling slightly down her collarbone and neck and - ( _She is very beautiful, but Lexa is very sad and has much bigger worries than pretty girls who wander the halls of their dorm touching things that are not hers and kicking vending machine - it’s not worth thinking deeply about at the moment._ )

 

“Yes.” Her fingers trace the crinkles softly and she can feel the other girl’s stare.

 

“Did you find a ride?” Lexa sighs and wearily looks up at her as if to say ‘ _would i be here if I did?’_

 

“No.” Clarke finds herself staring down at the paper again - Washington DC. Easily over 2000 miles from their campus and probably a good week of driving; also, very, very far from Clarke’s home. _"You don't have to go home."_ Ravens words echo in her head and she didn't realize how true they were - like most things Abby Griffin, Clarke has trouble figuring out where she has a choice and where the decision has already been made for her, but this, this is hers.The car is hers and a car can go places that are not predetermined by her mother’s wishes.

 

It’s a bad idea. A horrible idea. And Raven’s counting on her to take them home - but Raven also has her own car if she really wants to go home. Arkham is right up the California coastline, only about five hours away by car and maybe eight hours by bus. Raven could handle it.

 

“I can give you a ride.”

 

The taller girl’s eyes widen and her jaw clenches almost imperceptibly, eyes narrowing, before she holds out her hand impeccably polite and stiff, “I’m Lexa.”

 

\--------------

 

"Clarke when I said you had options this was not what I meant.” Raven waves her hands around urgently, limping as she paces the dorm room.

 

“You have your own car - I can’t go home. Not now. Not yet. This is good, Raven. It’ll just be for a couple of weeks - driving her home and then coming back and it’ll be less time at home and more time for me to think.”

 

“Jesus fucking christ and I thought Octavia was impulsive - “

 

“Hey!” Clarke doesn’t hold a card to Octavia who throws herself into all types of situations without thought although, to be fair, she normally ends up coming out better for it.

 

“You are taking a complete stranger on a seven day road trip coast to coast. Don’t even try to defend this shit. What will your mother think? Are you going to tell her? Where are you going to stay? Do you have the money?” Raven piles question on top of question, eyebrows up and lips thinning more with every word, trying to point out all the parts of this that could go wrong.

 

“Raven. I’m doing this.” Her arms are crossed and legs wide, metaphorically digging her heels into the sand, because she knows Raven’s right, but also it’s a) too late to back out now, b) Lexa might murder her if she does (simply based off Clarke’s first impression she really doesn’t think this is an exaggeration) and c) she really, really, really doesn’t want to see her mother.

 

“For the record, I think this is a terrible idea.” Clarke nods, shrugging, she already knew that. “And i’m coming with you.”

 

“What? Raven, you don’t - “

 

“No way. What if she’s a serial killer or - or something.” Clarke thinks of the thick hair curling around a tan neck, eyes peering calculatingly out from behind black frames, and slouchy sweaters and judgemental frowns, and yeah, Lexa’s something. “You said she didn’t smile the entire time you talked to her. I don’t want to have your death over my head for the next ten years.”

 

“Only ten years?”

 

“What? You think I’d mourn you longer than that? You got a big head.” Raven tilts her head and smiles mockingly at her and Clarke knows they’ll be okay.

 

She’s got two hours until they leave.

 

It’s time to go.

 

\-------------

 

Thirty minutes later the door swings open and it’s Octavia.  Of course. Because Clarke needs someone else to drop in on the situation.

 

"I'm riding home with you two. Bellamy's being a dick.” She says, huffing and flopping down onto the naked matresses of their dorm room. Her hair is pulled back and she’s scowling at the two of them like they’re the ones who’ve offended her. “Well?”

 

 _“I’m - She’s_ not going home _._ ”

 

Clarke and Raven reply at the same time, words mixed together and Octavia looks at them like they’re nuts.

 

“What?”

 

Clarke opens her mouth to explain, but Raven throws a hand out in front and gives her a stern look. “This one here doesn’t feel like going home -”

 

“Yet.” Clarke interjects.

 

“Yet and so, decided to offer a stranger a ride all the way to D.C. in order to avoid her mother.”

 

Clarke would try and muster up the energy to be offended but, since it’s mostly true, if not harsh, she just shrugs.

 

“Sounds wild, guys.” Octavia bounces on the bed a moment, eyeing Clarke. "You're a fucking liar you know? Picking up strays acting like you'll hit their city? It’s totes dope, Clarke, but also kind of nuts."

 

Clarke’s doing her best to stay sane at the moment and avoid explaining at the same time - mostly because she’s not sure she can put into words the sinking feeling she gets when she thinks of going home, the taste of acid on her tongue constantly drip-dripping down the back of her throat and leaking into her stomach.

 

"I am going her way though, technically -"

 

Raven pipes up from the back, " - and our way eventually."

 

"Yeah. I'll go home eventually - after I've gone somewhere else. Life’s tangential who says it has to be in a straight line?"

 

Octavia grins and claps her enthusiastically on the shoulder, face coming in close. "Sweet - roadtrip!”

 

“ _This is not a road trip_.” Raven grumbles.

 

“I’m in. Don’t even worry about getting me home on time.” Her face scrunches for a moment in thought. “Someone’s gonna need to teach Bell how to skype though, or facetime.”

 

Great. Clarke thinks, Now, on top of everything else, she has to worry about calls from Bellamy wondering where his sister is and why they kidnapped her.

 

She’s not regretting her decision though. Not yet, at least.

 

\--------------

 

They don’t get on the road until the sun has long dipped down. Lexa chooses to lounge in the third row seat of Clarke’s Explorer, laptop open, taking advantage of the last vestiges of University wifi, and types out something in the dark - what Clarke’s not sure (classes ended last week), while they work out the tetris situation that will be fitting everyone’s suitcases in the trunk of her  suburban. She’s determined to not put anything in the seats except for snacks and blankets and it helps that Lexa simply has one medium size suitcase, but Clarke is making up for any room Lexa might have saved them with her two godzilla sized ones and Raven just looks highly annoyed with her single dufflebag while Octavia aggresively tries to push in her own large suitcase on top of the other three.

 

Clarke climbs in the front seat, hearing the trunk door slam and adjusts the rear mirror. She almost can’t see over the luggage, but it works. It’s good enough.

 

And with that they are on their way.

 

Day 1

 

"Fucking hell." Octavia moans.

 

"What? Shut up, O I’m trying to sleep.”  Raven slurs out from where she’s lying down in the third row seats.

 

"Auxiliary cord broke and what the hell did you do in our motel room last night  that you still need more sleep?"

 

The late start yesterday had left them checking into a motel room around one in the morning and, while Lexa had tried to get everyone up and going around seven, Clarke had gently placed the car keys in between her boobs, drawing a scandalized look from the other girl as she claimed driver’s privilege for setting the schedule. So, they hadn’t gotten back on the road until after lunch.

 

"Shut up."  Clarke can see a fist pump into the air in her rearview mirror. "And it’s about time that damn thing went out - no more of that shit that’s been going for two days straight.” Lexa turns from the second row and glares, _her_ iPod’s been hooked in, but Raven’s already curled back into her pillow and blanket and doesn’t see it - not that she’d particularly care. Since they left yesterday, Lexa and Raven have managed to disagree on basically everything from music to food (Clarke could never step into an IHop again) to personal hygiene - it didn’t help that Lexa was a political science and business double major who used the few words she spoke to shoot down any of Raven’s particularly colored opinions on the news when NPR came on the radio. In return, Raven made sure that Lexa knew exactly how every electrical appliance they came into contact with was put together in excruciating detail, _after_ disabling Lexa’s two hundred dollar headphones. (It had taken Clarke a good four hours to convince Raven to put them back together so Lexa wasn’t stewing angrily through the afternoon of their first day together. )

 

They’d reverted to sitting like children, each person with their separate row except for the one who sat up front with Clarke.

 

Lexa sat quietly in the second row, jammed between Raven’s duffle bag, all the snacks, and the window - which she was currently staring out of with a pinched look on her face. Clarke really hoped she wasn’t regretting accepting the rideshare.

 

“Yo, pass me the pretzels.” Raven drawls, peeking her head over the last row of seats.

 

“I’m busy with them.” Octavia cradles the bag to her chest and stuffs another thick stick in her mouth, chewing obnoxiously with her feet propped up on the dash. “Choose another snack.”

 

“No. I don’t want to ask sourpuss for them.” Clarke watches Lexa scowl into her lap using the rearview mirror and when she looks up they manage to catch each other’s gaze. Clarke gives her a weak smile. “Give me some fucking pretzels, Octavia.”

 

“No. I had them first.” Clarke rolled her eyes and seriously considers calling Bellamy to come pick up the two. At least Lexa’s prickly silence was, well, silent.

 

“I swear to god - “ and just as Raven unclicks her seatbelt to vault into the front seat, Lexa pushes forward and neatly plucks the pretzel bag from Octavia’s grip, throwing it to the back. Raven blinks and then sits back down, humming, “uh, thanks.”

 

Lexa shrugged, “You were loud.”

 

Raven frowns and huffs, but eventually settles back into her row, while Octavia stews in anger nearly elbowing Clarke in the stomach as she viciously reaches back to tear into a pack of twizzlers. “Real nice.” But Lexa has already plugged her earphones in, now focused on the door handle, staring at it hard.

 

\---------------

 

They’re rolling through small town Texas, about two hours after stopping for dinner, when Clarke catches the way Lexa lurches forward, clutching her stomach. She let’s it go when the other girl doesn’t say anything, but after fifteen minutes Lexa’s skin has paled unnaturally and she has her eyes trained on an unmoving spot on the dashboard, breaths shaky and controlled.

 

“Are you okay?” Lexa’s eyes move sideways to her and then go right back to the dash.

 

“No. I mean - yes.” Her jaw clenches, body rejecting the attempt to talk. “I am fine.”

 

“Wait. Are you sick?” Clarke twists her lips and creases her eyebrows, suddenly worried that Lexa was on the verge of blowing chunks all over them before they stopped for the night.

 

“No.” She bit out, “I don’t get sick.”

 

But Clarke saw how pale she was and the way her hair stuck to her forehead, sweaty despite the blasting a/c and knew it was bullshit - she thought for a moment about calling Lexa out but decided it could wait.

 

“We’re going to stop for the night.” She announces to the car, receiving a half-hearted wave from Octavia and silence from Raven since neither girl could care less about staying on a schedule. Lexa’s lip curls in anger, but she’s not stupid - her stomach is rebelling violently and the vibrations of the car we’re only escalating the war inside.

 

The swerve of the car indicates Clarke finding a place and Lexa nearly groans in relief at the bright yellow Super Motel 8 sign. This was probably the shittiest looking place Clarke had been in a while (that’s saying something considering she lived in the university dorms and was a frequent visitor of the crappy little bars that dotted around campus), but this trip would become miserable if the inside of her suburban becomes coated in vomit. Lexa was out of the car before the key had even been pulled out of the ignition, leaving the other three to blink slowly as her form darted into main building and as they began to pull out the luggage, Clarke turned to watch Lexa dart out of the office, sun blinking down behind the ugly grey walls, key in hand, and duck into one of the rooms across from the empty hole that had probably been a pool at one time. Octavia paused from where she was lifting her suitcase out of the trunk and looked at Clarke, “Someone should probably go check on her?”

 

Raven pops up from behind, duffle bag over her shoulder. “Yeah. someone.”

 

They both raise their eyebrows at her and Clarke sighs, “Yeah, I’m just going to… yeah. I’ll check on her.”

 

\----------

 

The sounds of gagging hit her long before she reaches the bathroom door and Clarke knocks tentatively, waiting for a response before opening the door - she’s hung out at her mother’s work far too long for the smell of vomit to bother her and for that she’s grateful. Lexa probably hates that she’s even here and would most likely not appreciate her face twisting in disgust.

 

“Hey. You need anything?” She stands there in the doorway awkwardly watching Lexa on her knees, bowing to the porcelain god.

 

“No.” It was probably intended to be harsh and mean, but it comes out more a tired croak and Lexa slumps further into the ground, losing her last shred of dignity. Clarke hesitates and then moves forward as Lexa lurches over the toilet again, gathering the girl's curls in her hands and holding them back and away from her face and neck. She rubs comforting circles in the small of her back, waiting for Lexa to finish hurling what remains of dinner out. Once that wave of nausea is done, Lexa quietly asks her to go and rests her head against the edge of the cool porcelain. Clarke leaves and the door clicks behind her, making the other girl sigh with relief - this was not how anyone should see her, before slowly lowering herself to the floor.

 

The tile against her forehead is chilly and feels wonderful as she waits for another wave of nausea to hit, but leaving the car combined with emptying her stomach seems to have left her void. Her body aches and her skin is sticky, but she no longer feels like her insides are going to becomes her outside. She flushes and Clarke comes back in almost as soon as the sound fades, carrying a few supplies.

 

Clarke helps Lexa  stand and pulls out a toothbrush - Lexa’s which must mean Clarke had retrieved her suitcase for her, and directs her towards the sink.

 

"Thank you."

After her mouth tastes more like mint and less like yesterday’s garbage, Lexa manages to stumble out of the bathroom, Clarke following behind her just in case, and flops onto the nearest bed. Raven comes through the door and walks over to set a few bottles down - gatorade, water, and some juice shit that Lexa can’t look straight on at because it’s orange and that’s apparently a color that currently makes her stomach do somersaults, “Wasn’t sure what you’d need so we raided the vending machines and got a couple.” Octavia’s pulling the cap off of an tylenol container and dumping a bunch next to the drinks, before asking, “We can put on some TSwift if that’ll help you sleep too.”

 

Lexa grunts and turns away, the tips of her ears turning red because they weren’t supposed to be able to hear her music through those _goddamn expensive_ headphones. Clarke climbs onto the other half of the bed and pats her on the shoulder, before addressing the other two. “Leave her alone guys, pretty sure there’s something in the medical code that says you can’t tease your patients.”

 

Octavia nods solemnly, “Do no harm, but take no shit.”

 

Raven side eyes her, “Pretty sure that is completely wrong.” but Octavia just shrugs and walks over to the bed they’ll be sharing, pulling back and shaking out the covers before taking off one of the blankets and carrying it over to Clarke to dump on Lexa, who’s curled up into a pathetic little ball, shivering and exhausted from the vomiting.

 

“Uteruses before duteruses.” She says placing a small bottle of pepto bismol on the table between the beds and laughing when Raven groans at the idiom. "Ovaries before brovaries."

 

Lexa almost laughs, downing the pills and water before fading away with the sound of her companions in the background.

 

\------------------

 

In the middle of the night, Clarke wakes and reaches over the side of the bed, noting the absence of another body. The bed’s still warm though so, she knows it hasn’t been long since Lexa left. It’s really none of her business, she’s known Lexa all of two days - seeing her vomit doesn’t automatically make them besties. At the same time though, she has underestimated the bonding experience of having someone hold your hair back while you throw up - it’s how Clarke became friends with Bellamy and thus, met Octavia.

 

She’s worried anyhow and if Lexa doesn’t want her there she figures Lexa won't hesitate to tell her. Raven and Octavia sleep soundly in the other bed with Raven starfishing out and over Octavia who is lying straight and stiff as a board - years of hiding under the bed she would always joke and Clarke would always watch how Bellamy’s spine would stiffen and Octavia would knock their shoulders together. The details aren’t clear, but Clarke knows that their Mom died and that Bellamy spent years in court fighting to get custody of his little sister, get her out of the foster system and home with him. The door creaks loudly as she exits, but neither of them stir.

 

Lexa’s sitting in the pool area, legs hanging over the side into the empty concrete chasm, head tilted up towards the sky. It’s not until Clarke sits down next to her that she’s acknowledged.

 

“Hey.”

 

Clarke bites her lip and picks at the scattered leaves on the ground, dry and cracked.

 

“Hey.” Silence overtakes again and Lexa almost finds it uncomfortable. She’s never felt uncomfortable in silence because she’s never felt the need to fill it, never cared enough about a lagging conversation, but - Clarke does funny things to her. “I think I do get sick.”

 

Clarke barks out a laugh and it lifts the pressure off of Lexa’s chest, letting it dissipate into the space where Clarke’s smile exists.

 

“Yeah, but if anyone asks us to corroborate we can deny it. No one ever has to know”

 

“I would definitely appreciate it. Wouldn’t want to ruin my intimidating reputation.”

 

Clarke leans back on her elbows, watching Lexa nod her head in a serious manner, but she doesn’t miss the playful look.

 

"Hard to be intimidated by someone with their head halfway down the plumbing." This time it's Lexa who laughs and Clarke thinks it looks very nice, if not strained, as if Lexa hadn't curled her muscles that way in quite a while.

 

“Sorry we had to stop in this craptown.” Clarke startles at her words, soft and demanding, like Clarke has no other option than to forgive Lexa for getting sick. It makes her stick her tongue behind her teeth and breathe out another soft laugh. 

 

“It’s fine. You can’t help that an object in motion causes your gag reflex to go into motion too.” She’s teasing and Lexa knows it, shifting to bump their shoulders together. “Besides, I’m not in any hurry to get anywhere.”

 

“Why?” Clarke freezes, eyes wide. Finn leaving, her Dad gone, her Mom standing there next to everyone else responsible and her face starts to burn, an itching behind her eyelids that feels like stars exploding from her head, and - “You don’t have to tell me.” Lexa’s hand covers hers and Clarke relaxes.

 

“I’m just not ready to go home. I’m sorry.” Lexa finds it ironic that Clarke is apologizing now. That they both apologize for things that really don’t require any type of penance.

 

“I’m grateful for the ride. Whatever pace you wish to set is the pace I am satisfied with.” A warm feeling settles in the pit of Clarke’s stomach, right amidst the nervous fluttering that has been there since Lexa climbed into the front seat of her suburban.  "I don't mind the delay either. Not really.”

 

Clarke's curious because Lexa seemed so eager the other morning, pushing them all to wake up, but family is confusing like that - the only people in the world who you simultaneously want nothing and everything from.

 

The warm summer air doesn’t protect them from the slight chill of a wind and Lexa can’t hold back the shiver that runs down her spine, making Clarke eye her more fully. Lexa has been outside far longer than her and only has a tanktop to Clarke’s bedtime sweatshirt. The goosebumps running up and down her arms stand out and, for the first time, Clarke notices how slim and small Lexa is despite being taller than her by several inches.

 

“We should go back to bed. Long day tomorrow and I can’t be tired if I’m driving.”

 

Lexa bites her lip before standing up and offering Clark a hand. “You set the schedule. We can always sleep in.”

 

“Haha if only.” Lexa pulls her up and she stumbles forward a little bit, knocking them together. “I don't think I can hold us up forever.”

 

"I wouldn't mind." Lexa whispers, making Clarke pause for a moment, but the moment goes and their hands release.

They head back to the room, Lexa opening the pool gate for them. When they enter the room, Raven snores loudly and Clarke has to muffle a laugh, Lexa grinning and raising a finger to shush her.

 

Clarke crawls onto the bed first and Lexa slips into bed after her, rolling dark eyes when Clarke playfully pats the empty space next to her in a come hither gesture. The bed is cold again, A/C window unit on high thanks to Octavia and her menopausal-like hot flashes, but when Lexa curls in eyes open and staring at Clarke’s the very air around her becomes inexplicably warm.

  
Then she falls asleep.


End file.
